Langhorne Slim’s When the Sun’s Gone Down is busking music composed in the grip of what sounds like a molar-rattling caffeine-and-Ritalin addiction. Said to have been recorded in “apartments in Brooklyn,” it’s supposed to be rural—merry skiffle by a smiling hillbilly. Guess what? This still seems done by someone stuck in an eight-by-10 room for too long who can’t tell if the sun has gone down because there are no windows in the place. “We know a lot of people in a small town,” sings Slim, who’s going to take his girl to his house by the beach and “thank all the ladies” because he loves to dance, dance, dance. With a voice abrasive enough to drill tooth enamel, Langhorne Slim is born for success should Chuck Barris come out of retirement.